


Traditional knitwear of Tarth

by tall_wolf_of_tarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Knitting, Museums, So be warned, The Long Night, Weddings, but its still mainly fluffy, canon typical injury, is a party, maybe little bit sad in the middle, so they wear hand knits, that means Jaime's hand is going to get chopped off, there is lots of knitting, winter is coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22611109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_wolf_of_tarth/pseuds/tall_wolf_of_tarth
Summary: Brienne moves to Winterfell and starts to knit. Jaime Lannister is cold and no one knits for him.Lots of knitting references and fluff.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 156
Kudos: 290





	1. 1. It's not yet winter, but it's coming. Coldness level 5/10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne moves to Winterfell and starts to knit.

## 1\. It's not yet winter, but it's coming. Coldness level 5/10

Everyone knows how to knit in Tarth. Either you learn from your parents when you are small or you learn in school. Knitting is considered an essential life skill and practising fine motor skills are good for young developing brains, Brienne remembers someone telling her. Brienne knows how to knit, but she just doesn’t like it. She herself didn’t learn to knit in school, she was taught by Galladon who was much more patient teacher that her septa was. Brienne still has a pair of socks that Galladon knit for her when they were kids. They are simple grey wool socks with pink stripes on cuffs, with that type of heel that everyone knows how to knit in Tarth and no-one in the mainland has ever seen.

When Brienne moves to Winterfell she starts to knit again. She brings her winter clothes with her when she moves, but the fingerless mitts, fashionable slouchy hats and breezy scarves that were warm enough to use Stormland's winters are definitely not warm enough for early fall in Winterfell. There is a yarn shop in Winter Town, but wool there looks weirdly fluffy. It’s real wool, of course, people in North are not stupid enough to knit from acrylics, but it’s spun in a different way than yarn is spun at Tarth, and it splits oddly when Brienne tries to knit with it. And the knitting needles are much thicker than she is used to knit with and it almost feels like knitting with pencils. So she calls her dad and asks him to mail her some homespun Tarth wool and her old knitting needles.

When the package arrives from Tarth it has more than just hanks of wool and her needles. There is also a dog-eared notebook with traditional Tarth patterns and a brand new Tarth gansey that her dad has knit for her. It’s not the fancy kind of gansey that Tarth is famous for, this is the “grey gansey”, or “fisherman's gansey”, a thick jersey that was used when working outdoors in cold winds. It’s patterned with fisherman rib and knit from thick grey wool, with simple boat neck and long sleeves. And in her very first Winterfell winter it soon becomes Brienne’s favourite garment to wear.

Brienne knits herself a thicker hat, a new pair of mittens, long and wide scarf and several pairs of socks. It doesn't take her long enough to get the skill back and she quickly discovers that she actually likes knitting now. She knits while watching television and bravely digs out her knitting bag in Museum staff room where she has seen read headed girl knitting during the breaks. The girl is Sansa Stark, daughter of Professor Tully and she seems to be researching something textile related in the Museums collections. Brienne and Sansa quickly bond over shared craft.

What Sansa knits is completely different from Brienne's. Sansa uses the wool from yarn shop or orders it online and it's always soft and in pretty colours. She produces the same items as Brienne, mittens and socks and such, but hers are in fashionable patterns she downloads online, while Brienne calculates the stitch counts in her own plain notebook.

Brienne always knits the traditional Tarth way, and produces utilitarian, plain objects. Sansa has fancy stitch markers and a whole box of all sorts of other notions in her custom made knitting bags while Brienne stuffs her knitting in an old canvas tote bag and wouldn't really know what to do with stitch markers. Sansa keeps asking Brienne to write an article about traditional Tarth knitting but Brienne knows she is not the person to do it. If anyone should write anything about Tarth knitting it should be her uncle Goodwin who knows everything there is to know about it.

When the summer comes again Brienne has a decent wardrobe to ward off Winterfell winter. She doesn't really even get a chance to put away her winter wardrobe, since her first Winterfell summer is the shortest summer in two decades. “Winter is coming,” the Northerners start repeating and everyone who is old enough to remember last Long Winter nod solemnly. Brienne sighs, texts new order for yarn to her dad and starts knitting a hat to Podrick, their latest hire from the south.

When Jaime Lannister first arrives at Winterfell Museum staff room, he wears a thin-looking cashmere sweater under his pea coat and he looks almost blue in the face with cold.

“You should knit me one,” he nudges Brienne with his elbow in a staff meeting next week. Brienne is knitting socks for Podrick while listening to professor Tully explaining the technicalities of announcing upcoming winter. She is not the only knitter in the staff room, Sansa is knitting some bright coloured garment in three colours. Brienne has tried to figure out what she is knitting but its hard to tell yet.

“Knit you what, Lannister?” Jaime Lannister still looks cold. He has put on a suit jacket on top of his cashmere sweater. Brienne is wearing her nice gansey, which is thinner than the grey fisherman one she got from her dad, but is still very cosy and warm. Museum building is heated with geothermal energy and is not exactly cold, but it's not warm either. The rooms are kept in permanent 20 degrees of Celsius and Brienne's nice gansey is just warm enough here. Lannister is nursing a teacup between his hands and is shivering.

“One of these,” Lannister is poking her nice gansey now. “That's a Tarth gansey, isn't it? You should knit me one.”

She should have known that Jaime Lannister is stupid enough to think that someone would knit him a gansey.

“No.” She replies and hopes that he doesn't bring it up again.

Lannister frowns. “Why not?”

Brienne sighs. There is a whole speech she could give out, where main points would be that knitting takes time, the yarn is more expensive than you'd think, and that she knits only for herself and for those few people she likes. But her experience with Jaime Lannister, whom she has shared an office for last week, is that Jaime Lannister loves to argue.

“Because I don't want to.” That doesn't seem to be enough for him.

“Oh, come on. I'll pay for the yarn.”

She rolls her eyes and starts the heel flap on her sock. Non-knitters never understand this. They see someone knitting and right away imagine them being their personal knitwear dispensing machine. Like every knitting person doesn't have any idea what they should knit and should be honoured to be allowed to knit gods damn Tarth gansey for some mainland rich boy.

Brienne's uncle Goodwin knitted Brienne this gansey she is wearing now and it took Goodwin probably several months and Goodwin is a fast knitter. Tarth ganseys are insanely time-consuming to knit, at least the proper ones that the islanders are wearing themselves. The ones that are sold in knitting shops in Evenfall town are nice looking, but the islanders know better. Proper ganseys are hand knitted with needles as thin as 1.25 mm, they are covered with intricate ropes of crisscrossing travelling stitches, wide areas patterned with knit and purl stitches and they have stranded cuffs with patterns that families have used for centuries.

Goodwin gifted her this gansey when she was in high school when it finally looked that she had stopped growing. She hadn't though, so she had to take it back to him to knit the sleeves longer. She still remembers how wrong it felt when Goodwin cut off the cuffs of her gansey with scissors and how her uncle laughed at the face she made. Brienne spent all Sunday doing housework on Goodwin's house while he knitted additional two inches to the sleeves and Kitchener stitched the cuffs back to the sleeves. Goodwin is a knitting wizard, as far as Brienne knows. Kitchener stitching is useful to join live stitches, but doing it is pain in the ass and Brienne has to dig out her “Tarth knitting basics” booklet to check how to do it every time she tries. And Goodwin stitched the cuffs back in pattern!

Brienne treasures her nice gansey and takes good care of it, airing it out after every use and mending it if needed. Brienne knows that she will never knit a proper gansey herself, it is far too complicated and time-consuming project for her. And if she would knit one, she would knit it to someone she would be really close to. Like her father or uncle Goodwin or her own future children. But her father and uncle already have nice ganseys of their own, and she will probably never have kids of her own to knit to. Right now she is too busy knitting things for Podrick, who is a nice lad and is insanely grateful for everything Brienne gifts him.

Jaime Lannister continues being a pain in the ass like he is and doesn't give up easily. He accosts her about knitting him again and again, basically every time he notices her knitting. Or sees her knitting bag with her WIP sticking out. Or sees any knitted items Brienne wears, which is basically every day.

“Oh come on, why won't you knit for me, Tarth? I'll pay you,” he exclaims once again.

“I don't knit on commission.” He still doesn't give up.

“Why not? You look like you could use some extra money.”

Brienne is forced to use something that she read from a meme that Sansa had sent her.

“Because knitting is like sex, Lannister.” He looks excited for that. Dumbass. “If I like you, and you appreciate it, it's free. Other than that, you can't pay me enough. And you can't pay me enough, Lannister.”

He laughs at that, but drops the subject of knitting after that. In the end Brienne feels bad enough and sends him a link to a knitting shop at Tarth where ganseys are sold for tourists. He turns up next week wearing a really nice one, from light grey wool that brings out the greens of his eyes. That, of course, means that they now match like a couple from a Sevenmas cards and Jaime of course is happy to point that out to her. At least he doesn't look so cold any more, Brienne thinks when she hides from him in the museum cafe. Jaime Lannister looks rather fetching in his herringbone blazer and his new gansey and that annoys Brienne even more.

When it really starts to look like that this upcoming winter is not the regular annual winter, but what trashy newspapers call a “Super Winter” and scientists call “Irregular climate anomaly” but everyone else calls “The Long Winter” it quickly becomes clear that Jaime Lannister is not the only southron idiot who doesn't know how to dress in Northern climate. The museum organizes a quick pop-up exhibition how Winterfell has historically distributed winter clothing to its citizens prior every Long Winter and Sansa Stark puts together a winter accessory drive for staff members who have inadequate clothing. Brienne, who has lived in Winterfell now over a year and is well in the know what is necessary clothing in extreme cold volunteers to knit dozen or so hats, which she proceeds then to crank out in great speed. She chooses 3-ply woollen-spun yarn from her now growing stash of Tarth yarns, and her thickest needles which are about 3 mm thick, cast on 60 stitches and knits basic fisherman rib (or Brioche stitch, like Sansa, calls it). It's the thickest yarn she has, and thickest needles, so the hats come out pretty fast. And she doesn't need to look at her knitting, because the stitch is easy to do.

“Just knit one stitch like always, and every second stitch you slip without knitting, and add a yarn over while you do it. And on the reverse side you do exactly the same,” she explains to Podrick, who volunteers to knit for the clothing drive.

“You knit until it's about 30 cm long, then cut the yarn, thread it through all your live stitches and then just sew the side seam. And you have a hat. The longer you knit it, the slouchier the hat becomes.”

Brienne knits dozen or so hats in a few weeks, and Podrick manages to produce 4. Brienne takes them all home, washes and blocks them and stuffs them to tote bag to take to the work the next morning.

When she spots Lannister shivering in the bus stop, she surprises herself and pulls out one of the hats from her bag. It's one that she knit she knows, because she used a coloured yarns for cast on edges so the staff members would each have individual hats, and this one has madder red yarn that Brienne's dad had added to the last package she got from Tarth.

“What's this?” Lannister asks with confusion and looks the grey thing in his hand. Admittedly, the ribbed hat looks more or less like a giant knitted condom than a hat.

“It's a hat, Lannister. You put it in your head.”

He frowns. “I have a hood on my coat. Hat will mess up my hair.”

“Don't be stupid. You lose 90% of body heat through your head. Put on the hat before your ears fall off.”

He winces a little, but pulls the hat on.

“How stupid do I look, Tarth?”

“Just as stupid as always.”

“In films about the North, no one ever wears a hat. Not even in snowstorm. That looks stupid.” Podrick, who has arrived at the bus stop joins in the conversation. He is wearing a fisherman-rib hat but Podrick has knitted stripes on his and added a pompom.

After that Jaime always wears the hat when Brienne spots him outside. He even manages to look good at it, but Jaime Lannister looks good in pretty much everything, even in government-issued poofy coat and ski pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Helpful picture what a gansey looks like.](https://tall-wolf-of-tarth.tumblr.com/post/190309559486/my-jb-knitting-au-is-getting-worse-and-worse-ive) Although the gansey in that picture is more of an Iron Island kind of gansey.  
> Tarth has two kinds of ganseys, nice ones you wear in public, and fisherman's ganseys that are really warm.  
> The Tarth (nice) ganseys are not based on any sweaters, jerseys or other regional woollen shirts that exist, but I've stolen elements from different areas. I guess mostly they look like Dutch fisherman ganseys but with coloured cuffs.
> 
> Here is a helpful [link](https://youtu.be/LYRwh6ec-88) of how fishermans rib is knitted, or at least how I knit it.


	2. 2. Winter is coming. Coldness level 8/10.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime Lannister figures out what to wear when the winter is coming.

## 2\. Winter is coming. Coldness level 8/10.

When Jaime moves to Winterfell it's supposed to be early fall, but the weather is cold as balls. It's not warm inside either, since the Northerners seem to keep the temperature inside on the low side for an unknown reason. Winterfell Museum would be his ideal workplace if it wasn't so damn cold all the time. Jaime is hired there to _increase audience engagement,_ a job he did quite well in Red Keep Museum, until his family managed to spoil that to him as well. In Red Keep, he launched AR game that visitors can play with their phones in the museum and Jaime received multiple awards for Kingslayer's Quest. In Winterfell, he has an empty slate to start leaving his mark on. The museum is very old school and low tech, and Jaime can't wait to bring it to this century.

It would go well too, if it wasn't so damn cold everywhere and if Brienne Tarth, the curator of the Ancient Weaponry collections wouldn't be so damn difficult about in every suggestion that Jaime brings to the table.

“It's like we are in previous century here,” Jaime complains her. The museum is quiet space, filled with glass cabinets, guards wearing soft shoes that shuffle silently on well-worn hardwood floors and dust motes dancing in the weak sunlight that manages to get through the stain-glass windows. It has its charms but it's very outdated, which is why he was hired here. Brienne Tarth doesn't seem to care about his mission though.

“What if we would create an AR room where visitors could virtually try on different suits of armours?” he suggests to tall sour-looking woman.

“We already have a Small Armory, where visitors can _wear the actual real armour_. It's our most popular exhibition.”

She is right on that, Jaime agrees silently. Small Armory has an awesome collection of chainmail, helmets, armours and all sorts of weapons that visitors can try on and pose with. He still remembers doing it himself when he visited the museum a long time ago when he was still a boy. It's probably one of the reasons why he is now working with museums. And freezing his ass off here in the frigid North.

Brienne Tarth, who herself has really nice ass doesn't look cold at all. She is tall and wide, built solely on muscle and strength, and probably never feels cold. All that Jaime manages is to convince her and the department to add a “selfie spot” to Small Armory. When they test it out, Podrick Payne who is in charge of Small Armory, insists that Jaime and Brienne dress up to full armours to take the first photos. It's then when Jaime realises how damn hot Brienne Tarth is. It's like her body has been designed to carry an armor, to wield a morning star and swing a long sword. She tries out a few basic moves with her replica Oathkeeper while Podrick works the camera and Jaime watches. The photos Pod takes will be used as promotional material later, and Jaime can't resist to save some to his phone. His favourite is her in the helmet, blue eyes shining through the visor.

It's too bad that the tall hot woman is otherwise so infuriating. Jaime is forced to share an office with her and Jaime finds himself constantly arguing with Brienne. It gets so bad that Cleos, who also shares their room, voluntarily moves out of their nice office to the basement that smells like death.

“I'd rather be dragged behind a horse than listen to this constant bickering,” Jaime overhears Cleos complaining to Podrick who moves to Cleos's table. Podrick, or The Squire, as both visitors and the staff has dubbed him, seems to be in awe of Brienne. Which is not surprising considering how much Brienne mothers the boy, fussing over his winter clothing and even knitting for him.

Winter clothing is very relevant though here in the North. When Jaime comes over it's supposed to be fall, but the summer was coldest in several decades and now everyone seems to talk about the weather. “Winter is coming,” remarks Sansa Stark (a textile historian who doubles as Brienne's best friend and knitting buddy) casually, and the phrase keeps appearing and reappearing.

One thing that Lannisters know to do is to gear up and shop, so Jaime goes and gets himself a good selection of warm winter clothes. Mainly these are all sorts of thermal underwear, merino wool long johns and t-shirts. _Genuine Tarth Merino_ Jaime reads from the label and tries not to think what Brienne's ass and legs would look in black wool leggings.

Brienne herself rocks winter wear. In her white Tarth jersey and ridiculously long legs, she reminds him of some Arctic explorer or ship captain who stands strong against the snowstorms or icy winds discovering unknown routes to the Land of Always Winter.

In the end, they manage to get along a little bit better, particularly after when Jaime takes Brienne to Casterly Rock to research his family archives about a collection of objects in Winterfell's collection that looks suspiciously Lannister-like.

Brienne is ridiculously grateful about this opportunity. Two weeks after they have returned from Westerlands (gods, how warm was his room in Casterly Rock compared to his room here) Jaime finds a pair of hand-knit socks on his table. The socks are knit in two colours, off white and dark red and the pattern is actually quite silly – rows of angry-looking birds staring at each other.

“It's traditional Tarth pattern,” Brienne explains and her face has gone almost as red as little birds on the socks.

“Oh, these are really nice, Brienne! I've never done stranded knitting myself...” remarks Pod to Brienne.

“It's not that hard, Podrick. Just bring over some yarns tomorrow and I'll show you.” Brienne herself is almost always knitting, but that seems to be normal here in the North.

Jaime has never owned anything that is hand made especially for him. Even his Tarth gansey is apparently machine-knit.

“These are for me?” he asks Brienne. Jaime has seen Brienne knitting these socks in last weeks, she knitted them in the train as well, and he can't believe that someone would just give away something that takes dozens of hours of work.

“I wanted to give you something as thanks for the access in your family archives.” Jaime puts on the socks then, right there in the office.

Which is a lot less embarrassing to do than one would think, because in North Jaime was forced to learn a new concept that is _indoor shoes,_ so he doesn't need to take off his boots or anything. The socks fit his feet perfectly, and Jaime sticks his now toasty warm feet back to his _indoor shoes_. Brienne Tarth has knitted him something and that makes Jaime really toasty warm everywhere else as well.

Later on that night on Sansa Starks nameday bash Jaime, who perhaps had too much of spiked hippocras, finds Brienne standing near the bar frowning to her cup.

“I knew you liked me, wench!”

“What?” Brienne frowns at him now. She has the cutest frown.

“I knew you liked me,” Jaime repeats and then wraps his arm around her solid waist. “You said you only knit for the people you like and you knit those awesome socks for me. So now I know you like me.” Brienne blushes to a delicious shade of pink again and Jaime can't resist kissing her burning cheek.

“Thank you for the socks Brienne. I love them.”

“Alright,” she scowls and pulls away from him. “Just don't shrink them in the wash. If you do, I won't knit for you again.”

**

Just when Jaime thinks he has gotten the clothes thing figured out it gets even colder and it's clear now that The Long Winter is coming for real. Everyone in museum starts wearing fingerless mitts indoors. Sansa Stark finishes whatever she has been knitting in last months in the staff room and happily presents a pair of knitted hot pants.

“Gods, they are so warm and nice,” she exclaims and pulls them up under her dress over her tights. She only has to say “Alpaca wool!” and all women in the staff room start to coo with envy, except maybe Brienne Tarth who never wears dresses or skirts. Sansa's hot pants look impressive though. They are hot pink and have knitted direwolves running across the legs. Not that Jaime can say anything about her choice of underwear, as he is currently wearing two pairs of thermal underpants (Tarth merino) under his suit pants and in his feet are socks that Brienne knit to him.

Having finished her pants-knitting Sansa Stark proceeds to knit cowls to everyone. Brienne is one of the first who receives one, soft-looking one in shades of blue that matches her beautiful eyes. Even Jaime gets a cowl, in light grey wool that matches his gansey. Unlike his Tarth gansey, the cowl doesn't itch at all. Jaime has learned that itchy woollen things are good, because they are warm so he doesn't mind his gansey itching. He layers up with additional thermal shirt under his dress shirt and tries not to scratch himself too publicly.

The most horrible thing that comes with winter besides the cold is the snow. There is just so fucking much of it. When Jaime lived in King's Landing he thought that the snow is something pretty and magical. It floated down from the sky, covered everything for a day and disappeared overnight before causing much any problems.

The snow in North is gods damn menace. It comes in all different elements. Wet snow, in big sploshy chunks that fall heavily to his face and leave a wet trail like tears. Steel sharp ice snow, that stabs sideways his face in strong wind. Jaime hasn't encountered snow in steam form yet, but he is sure that it will come soon. The worst is the kind of snow is the kind that comes down from the sky and just doesn't fucking stop coming. It keeps coming and coming and coming until there is so much snow everywhere that cars left to the sides of the street get buried under the piles of it and become the part of the snow-covered landscape. Jaime congratulates himself of having rented an indoor parking space where he can leave his own car. He doesn't even have winter tires and Brienne Tarth pulls him aside and tells him not to drive it now when there is so much snow.

The thing is, there is nothing to do in Winterfell any more. The snow is everywhere, it's hard to walk on the sidewalks and it's so damn cold outside that you don't want to go out unless you really need to. And there is only that much of TV that one man can watch. So when he hears that Arthur Dayne is coming to White Harbour and sign his new book from Sword of the Morning series, Jaime decides to drive there. He is not stupid enough to attempt to drive now without winter tires, he is a responsible adult so he goes to Brienne Tarth and asks to borrow her car.

It doesn't go as planned.

“No.” tells Brienne bluntly.

“Why not? You're working on Saturday and won't need your car.”

“Jaime, you're never driven in snow. You'll kill yourself.”

“I've watched enough videos, I know how to drive in snow.”

“Absolutely not. I'll drive you there myself on Sunday, and you can practice if the roads are good.”

“But Arthur Dayne is not in White Harbour on Sunday. Just let me borrow your car, please.”

“No, just take a train then.”

“There are no trains to White Harbour, only buses. And I'm not taking a bus.” He hates the buses.

“I'm not lending my car to someone who has never driven in snow before. And that's final.”

“Fine,” Jaime snarls.

He doesn't need Brienne's car. Instead, he goes and rents a car. And he _was_ right, the drive to White Harbour is fine. The roads are freshly ploughed, the sun is shining and it creates this white Winter Wonderland landscape that looks almost magical. He has rented a pretty alright car too, quite new. It has winter tires with spikes on them and heated seats.

It's when he is driving back when things go shit. It starts to snow again, which is not bad at first, but then the snow starts piling on the road. The sun sets, it gets dark and suddenly he can't see much more than just darkness and white snowflakes passing his car in a frenzy. When the snow hits the windscreen it forms this icy goo on the glass and even when his wipers are in fastest setting the windscreen doesn't stay clean enough to see anything. He drives the last hour behind a large truck and hopes to get home alive and in one piece.

Boy was he wrong on the latter, he realises later when he wakes up in the hospital without his right hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Link](https://tall-wolf-of-tarth.tumblr.com/post/190682531561/tall-wolf-of-tarth-i-cut-this-out-from-my) to silly looking birdies on Jaime's socks and alternative version of the scene how Jaime got them. 
> 
> This fic is fluffy as novelty yarn but I did put in the hand chop. There will be no Goats or Biters so you won't have to fear anything bad happening to our sweetlings after this.


	3. 3. Citadel announces winter. Coldness level 14/10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime wallows in the hospital. Brienne keeps knitting.

## 3\. Citadel announces winter. Coldness level 14/10

Jaime is not an easy patient, Brienne learns. The hospital nurses who first seem to be excited to work with this half-god -looking man soon avoid his room like a plague. Jaime doesn't talk, but when he does open his mouth his words are cruel and his barbs are sharp. He refuses to eat or cooperate with the staff and only stares away from the person who is trying to gain his attention.

It's understandable that he is upset, Brienne herself can't fathom what it would feel like to lose a hand but when the days go by his mood doesn't seem to improve at all.

Visitors who come by his bed soon leave their offerings on his bedside table and hover awkwardly until they run out of things to say to the back of his head and run away. Not that he has many visitors, besides few from the Museum who briefly visit. So Brienne stays in his room, sitting in uncomfortable chair knitting because she doesn't know what else to do. She goes home for the night and comes back in the morning. While watching his wallowing Brienne manages to finish a pair of socks, the fastest she has ever knit. Although she hasn't sat in one place for 12 hours straight until now. When the socks are finished, she weaves in the ends and stands up from the chair. She is exhausted, stiff and frustrated.

“Jaime,” she calls him quietly and sits on the edge of his bed. He moves his head just a little bit, away from her.

“Jaime... Would you please look at me?” she tries again, but he still pretends not to hear so she gently turns his head with her palm.

“What are you doing, Jaime?” He finally looks at her and his eyes are full of despair.

“I'm dying.”

“That's... Overly dramatic. You only lost a hand.” That gets a reaction.

“Only a hand--! What do you know about it?”

She moves her thumb on his cheek quietly.

“I've been where you are. I didn't lose my limb, but I lost my mother and baby sisters and then I had to find a reason to sit up in a hospital bed. And continue living.” His eyes are locked with hers now, and there is a flicker of the memory within Brienne. Pain that was once so bright but now is dulled, and she sees it in his eyes too.

“I know it's hard, but please try. Just a little.”

“Brienne,” he manages to croak and puts his own -- his only -- hand on top of hers.

“Alright,” she nods to him and he nods back at her and it's very hard to for Brienne not to cry but she doesn't and instead she takes away her hand from his face.

“Let's lift your bed now, ok?” and he doesn't resist that so she lifts it for him.

After that she gives him a glass of juice from his bedside table and stares at him until he drinks it.

“What's this?” he pokes at the socks she has discarded to the edge of his bed when he gives back the empty glass.

“Socks. You can have them if you put them on yourself.” They are plain vanilla socks, from grey worsted yarn. He eyes the socks greedily, but she doesn't relent.

“You're such a bully” he moans, but he sits up and moves his legs over the edge of the bed. It takes him a while, but he manages to put on the first sock, and then the other one.

“There you go,” Brienne sighs, and sits down next to him. “Baby steps.” He leans his head to her shoulder, and she awkwardly pats his back.

It gets slightly better after that. When Sansa and Pod come over again Jaime eats the lemon cakes Sansa has brought him and Brienne is pretty sure that Jaime secretly likes chevron lace shawl that Podrick has knit him. Brienne goes to see Jaime every day after work and it's easier her to leave him there alone when she knows that he is not quite so unwell any more. There are other visitors as well, Cleos takes half a day off to pick up his mother and uncle from the train station and takes them to visit Jaime.

Next day Brienne finds Jaime sitting on the edge of his bed and playing chess with a tall gangly looking man.

“Is that your girl, Jaime?” the man exclaims when he spots Brienne hovering at the doorway. He has a friendly face and he doesn't seem to be mocking her, but Brienne feels her face going hot anyways.

“I'm Jaime's friend, Brienne.” Jaime's face lights up for that.

“And I'm Jaime's friend Addam,” the man laughs and shakes her hand.

Addam is really a godsend because he seems to lift Jaime's mood. And he stays for several days. He is cheerful, and doesn't seem to take Jaime's crap seriously, and that seems to be the right way of dealing with his wallowing.

It's Addam who stays with Jaime in the first days when he is released from the hospital, the event that Brienne has dreaded until now. Addam is flirty, but he seems to be like that with everyone, so Brienne doesn't mind that too much. She goes over to Jaime's apartment after work and finds both men sitting on Jaime's sofa watching old sword-and-shield movies and heckling. Addam is wearing Jaime's hat and is wrapped to a blanket and Jaime is snuggling under his new chevron lace shawl.

“You're not supposed to drink beer while on pain medication,” she gently scolds them but picks up a bottle of beer herself and sits to the middle where they have made space for her to watch the movie with them.

It's nice though, to hear Jaime not exactly laughing, but at least much more like himself again. And when Brienne drives Addam to train station next morning she lets him hug her like an old friend.

“Take care of him, alright?” Addam asks her. _Of course I will_ , she thinks, but is not able to say, so she just nods, and watches him walk to the train.

***

Jaime comes back to work much sooner than it's reasonable. He starts with only two hours per day but increases the workload gradually.

“I get cabin fever with sitting on my sofa all day” he explains, and Brienne tries not to hover too much when he is in their office. The museum's HR department goes out of the way to accommodate Jaime, and even hires him personal assistant who helps him with his work tasks. Brienne is first afraid that Peck will end up doing everything for Jaime, but soon notices how this quiet young man gently directs Jaime to be more and more independent.

Jaime gets rid of Peck pretty soon though, too annoyed to be shadowed, and it falls to Brienne to drive him to his various appointments. Brienne takes him to his physiotherapy, his trauma treatment counselling and to his prosthesis fittings. She waits either in car or dusty waiting rooms for hours so she knits and plans out the article in her head about Tarth knitting that Sansa has been bugging her to write. Jaime ends up with several more pairs of socks and new hat because he seems to presume that her hand knits are rewards for him not behaving beastly in his appointments, and they sort of are so she gives them to him gladly.

The thing that upsets Brienne most is when she sees one day that Jaime wears a sock over his stump. It's not medical sock or anything, it's just ratty-looking shop-bought boot sock with a heel and all.

“It's sensitive to cold. And the wind blows into my sleeve.” he shrugs when Brienne stares at it.

Brienne is horrified for the lack of her noticing this before, and immediately picks up needles and yarn to cast on him something better. She makes a sock in plain 2x2 rib from soft 2-ply lambswool that is cream coloured. It doesn't take long to knit the length of it, but she pauses before starting to knit the top. She needs to do decreases, but what kind? The triangle decreases that are used in the mittens don't feel right.

Decreases that are used in socks should be better she mulls. In the end, she chooses a round toe, where you decrease twice per needle and knit two rows between the decrease rows. It creates a round top that shouldn't look too bad on his stump. And because it feels odd to just give one of something that should come in pairs she knits him a matching wrist warmer as well.

Brienne immediately ends up knitting second pair of _arm socks_ or _residual limb covers_ like they are called in Ravelry, because he needs a thinner one that he can wear under his prosthesis when he finally gets one. She buys soft merino yarn from the wool shop, and separates the yarn and winds it to new balls to get really thin and soft yarn so she can knit really thin fabric to protect his skin. She knits it as plain stockinette with 2mm needles, so the fabric soft and delicate. This time she does a different "toe", she turns the top like she would turn a heel, and Kitchener stitches the opening shut so there are no seams. The finished sock she turns inside out so the bumps that purl stitches create would be on the outside and not against his sensitive skin.

“Thank you,” Jaime whispers against her neck when he finally lets her go from his embrace.

"You are awfully kind to useless cripple," he tries to joke. 

"You are not useless, Jaime." 

"I can't do any knitting, can I?"

"I didn't know you wanted to. But if you like you can help me to wind some yarn." 

So he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Meadows of Tarth are full of sheep.
> 
> There are actual patterns and projects in Ravelry for residual limb covers, but I made up my own here since Brienne doesn't use patterns.
> 
> Podrick learned to knit from Brienne but now he starts knitting lace shawls and goes overboard with them, knitting super fancy shawls with glass beads and nupps and whatnot.


	4. 4. Meadows of Tarth are full of sheep. Coldness level 5/10 (Tarth) and 20/10 (Winterfell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meadows of Tarth are full of sheep.

## 4\. Meadows of Tarth are full of sheep. Coldness level 5/10 (Tarth) and 20/10 (Winterfell)

“Tarth, Ser Jaime!” she quotes his favourite film when he spots the island from the ferry window. It's supposed to be their summer holiday, or “annual leave” like it is called now when it's The Long Winter, but the cold has found it's way to Stormlands as well. It's not as awful as it is in the North, and it almost felt warm when they stepped out from the train, but the chill has found its way back to Jaime's bones. Thankfully, there is no snow, but there was frost on the ground and the streets were wet with salt.

The chill feels worse on the ferry, so his first look of the Sapphire Island is through the ferry window. The waters are not sapphire blue but grey with storm. The island is green though, and beautiful. “I can't wait to get home and get something warm into me” marks Brienne, and Jaime swallows hard. He tries hard not to think about his best friend about like that, but the innuendo is too hard to resist.

“Oh, you got a sweetling waiting you on the port, do you?”

“Shut up!” she blushes to a delicious shade of pink and drops her knitting to smack him. “You know I didn't mean that.”

“Sorry,” he smirks back, although he isn't, but he wants to stay in her good graces for this trip. Brienne has brought him along to her visit to Evenfall so he can go through the armoury. There are some items connected to The Long Night, and Jaime will check if any of them would be suited to the upcoming online exhibition he plans in Winterfell Museum.

It's Jaime's first time at Tarth and even during wintertime, the island is charming. Well, mostly it seems to be one big pastoral grassland full of sheep. There is a short drive from the ferry terminal to Evenfall Castle and before they arrive Jaime has seen more sheep than ever before.

“Look, there are goats too,” Jaime remarks when they pass a meadow that seems to have different coloured smaller animals. Both Brienne's father Selwyn and Brienne laugh out loud.

“No, dummy, those are sheep,” Brienne explains.

“I thought that all sheep are white. Except occasional black one, I guess.” Those on the meadow were white, grey and different shades of brown.

“Those were Tarth heritage sheep. One of the oldest breeds of sheep in the world. We breed merino sheep for wool that we export, and Tarth sheep for the wool we use for Tarth knitting.”

Rest of the drive Selwyn tries to explain Jaime the different qualities of wool fibres and their suitability of different kinds of fabrics. What Jaime gets out of it is a slight suspicion that his expensive Tarth gansey should not actually itch so much.

Evenfall Hall is impressive, built from white marble that shines against the green hills. Most of it is used for events, and the family has been residing in former servants quarters since from the last war but the armoury is pretty much not used for anything else besides storing the weapons learns Jaime. They don't waste much time settling in their rooms before Jaime is taken to the armoury across the courtyard.

The armoury is compact, but full of cabinets, shelves and racks, bursting with everything accumulated over the centuries. Selwyn Tarth has set Jaime up at the middle of the room to an ancient-looking table with stacks of catalogues and notebooks for him to go through. Jaime is given a free rein of studying anything he likes. There seems to be everything starting with small pen-knives and daggers, going through with middle-sized things like swords, spears, crossbows and shields, and ending with big huge things like cannons and ending with a half of tank on the courtyard.

And of course, there are all sorts of rifles, handguns and other firearms, various sorts of tourney and real swords, morning stars, suits of armour and practice dummies. Both Selwyn and Brienne talk excitedly over each other when they show Jaime around the building and point out their own favourite murder devices. The Oathkeeper, Sir Duncan The Tall's shield and some other important items are in the main house where they are kept more guarded and displayed for paying visitors.

Selwyn keeps Jaime company while he works, on the first days. A discreet act that seems to both serve as a device to keep an eye on him and also to help Jaime with the drawers he is not able to pull open with his hand and prosthetic. Brienne's father, who normally seems to be quite companionable settles down on his own corner with a laptop and retreats to type aggressively while muttering to himself and only looking up to Jaime when he is being particularly loud with his artefacts.

It is the best holiday he has had for years. First of all, he is spending it with Brienne, whom he has a mad crush on, on her childhood home where there are walls full of embarrassing pictures of her looking like a startled fawn. Secondly, the armoury is full of exciting stuff he is allowed to study as much as likes as long as he is wearing cotton gloves and is careful. Which is much unlike the armoury in Casterly Rock, where there is staff hovering nearby every time he is even looking towards anything.

Brienne herself spends the days gathering information about the article she is writing about the history of knitting at Tarth. The task seems to be quite a struggle for her, since her forte is more arms and weapons than textiles, but she approaches it like a battle. She spends the days either in castle library or in the family archives going through stacks of books and dusty notebooks and such.

Brienne's only living family is her father and her Uncle Goodwin, latter who seems not to be her actual uncle but more like her knitting sensei. Both men are jovial and friendly, and seem to treat Jaime like a friend of their own, and not some sad old cripple who has a hopeless crush on their darling Brienne. Although both Selwyn and Goodwin seem to think that Jaime's nice Tarth gansey is an abomination and should be burned.

“It's machine-knitted,” complains Goodwin at the dinner. They all have had a tad too much mulled wine that night since it's particularly cold night.

“Look, it's the warmest thing I have and I actually like it. I don't care if it's not up to your island standards, I'm not burning it.”

“Don't be elitist, uncle.” Brienne joins in. “You know very well that the knitting machine that Selyse uses is 150 years old. It's still hand-made.”

“But it looks off.”

“Well, we can't all look like heroic explorers and distinguished naval officers in their nice authentic Tarth ganseys.”

Both men laugh at Jaime's jape but Brienne frowns.

“Wait, what? Why explorers?”

“Because you look like one of these heroic arctic explorers who skis through the ice and snow to map the edge of the world. In your gansey I mean.” Brienne still frowns, but Selwyn looks delighted, and leaves room for a moment. When he comes back, he hands Jaime an old photograph.

“Is that what you think, Jaime?”

First, when Jaime looks at the photograph it looks like it's Brienne in the picture, but then he realises that the woman in the photograph is not Brienne, but resembles her very much.

“This was Lady Brienne Evenstar. She was an arctic explorer. Your great-great-great-something aunt, Brienne.” Selwyn explains them.

“Ah,” understands Jaime. “I've actually seen this picture before. There is a map room in Casterly Rock, and this picture is there on the wall. That's why I thought about you look like an explorer.”

“That's actually what started it all. The ganseys I mean,” explains Goodwin. “Lady Brienne gave a speech, 1898 I think it was, in Royal Academy about her expedition to the Land of Always Winter and she was wearing this gansey and was photographed there. The photograph became very popular, it was printed in the newspapers and sold in the shops.”

Brienne picks up the frame from Jaime's hand and looks at it carefully.

“That's when ganseys became popular in the mainland.” Goodwin continues. “Well, ganseys and other kinds of jerseys from the other islands, but ours were first.”

Conversation goes towards the history of Tarth knitting next, and Jaime is glad that his tourist-gansey is safe from burning for now.

Later that night, Brienne and Jaime sit on his room in front of the fireplace and drink the wine they pilfered from Selwyns wine cabinet. Brienne has two red spots high on her cheeks and she is laughing her great big honking laugh and Jaime doesn't know how to hold himself back from kissing her. So he doesn't. He plucks the wine bottle out of her hand and places it to the floor away from them. Brienne seems to sense that something has changed in the air and her laugh dies but her eyes are still bright. She tastes like wine and summer and Jaime's heart is beating so fast that it will surely leap out of his chest. It's a sweet kiss, gentle and delicate, but when he pulls back Brienne doesn't smile. Instead she stands up slightly swaying, bids him good night and goes to her own room.

**

Brienne really doesn't know what to think about Jaime kissing her, but he doesn't speak about it afterwards, so she doesn't either. They were rather drunk, and maybe he doesn't even remember, she thinks. And in the end, it's easier to pretend it didn't happen so she does exactly that.

She does avoid him though, because it's too embarrassing also not to talk about it and goes to visit her uncle Goodwin to chat.

Like always uncle is happy to talk about knitting so Brienne sets up his phone to record and interviews him. When they are finished, Brienne shows him her project page in Ravelry.

“Dad gave me this old notebook and I've been using charts from there to knit.”

“Your father has a big collection of old knitting instructions. You should check it out.”

She does that on the evening. There is a big drawer full of books, charts, small knitted samples and old notebooks. There is one labelled “For your friends” that her father hands it to her.

“Oh, Brienne, check this out. I think there is one in here you'd like.”

The notebook is full of charts that look like regular Tarth patterns but instead of sun, stars, moons and such, there are wolves, stags, roses and even a little Greyjoy Kraken done with travelling stitches.

“Ah, look at this,” her dad finally finds the page he was looking for. There is a chart for a pair of mittens. _For your Lannister friend_ reads Brienne from the top. The mittens are charted deep crimson red, and the pattern is knitted in golden yellow. Its a pair of lions ramparts, with a sword between them. Above the lions are Tarth suns and moons. At the bottom of the page it reads in tiny round handwriting _Gift to J.L 1898._ There are also strands of yarn samples sewn to the page.

I have to make these to Jaime, Brienne knows instantly. The lions are exactly like the one at Lannister sigil and she knows that Jaime has been wishing for mittens for awhile now.

Next morning she leaves Jaime again to the armoury and goes to meet Selwyn's girlfriend Daisy who dyes yarn. Daisy and Brienne gush over the fabulous charts in her notebook, and Brienne picks up golden yellow yarn from Daisy's collection. Daisy doesn't have any suitable red yarn, but promises to dye her a batch in laceweight.

“I haven't knitted with so thin yarn before,” Brienne confesses to Goodwin later that night in the library.

“It's just the same as with thicker yarn, sweetling. It just takes longer.”

“I haven't done braids either. Or maybe in school I did, but I've forgotten how to knit them.”

There is Tarth braid drawn to the chart, separating the cuff from the body of the mitten.

“Sit down and I'll show you.”

Braids look like a chain of crochet stitches that goes horizontally across the knitting. It's a sort of wizardry that you need to learn from someone who shows it to you, not from a book. Brienne sits next to Goodwin to the sofa.

“You knit one stitch in braid colour, in this case, its red,” Goodwin explains and shows with a sock he is knitting, “and the second stitch in the background colour, I'm using grey.” He knits these two stitches, red and grey. And then he puts his left needle in the red stitch, drops both grey and red stitches from his right needle, and picks up the grey stitch again with his right needle.

“I crossed the stitches, see?” Brienne nods.

“Then I knit in braid colour again,” he knits the red stitch with a red yarn again. “and then background colour again, and then I switch them again like before.” He shows her again slowly, one more time, and then gives her the needles. “You try”.

“Braid colour, background colour, switch...” Brienne knits and chants. “It's not hard at all,” she exclaims when she has finished that needle. There is a row of little horizontal red loops now under the needle she has finished.

“And now you know how to knit a Tarth braid. Well, there is also herringbone braid and twisted braid, but you don't need those to your Lannister mittens.”

“Thank you uncle,” she hugs him. “Are you going to leave it in or should I unpick it?”

“Better unpick it sweetling, it would look silly at the middle of the foot, wouldn't it?” Brienne smiles and unpicks the braid she has just knitted and hands his work back to uncle.

“These Greyjoy krakens look like they are drunk and picking a fight” comments Goodwin on one of the designs. Theon would love them, thinks Brienne shortly before decidedly _not_ adding a new ridiculously difficult design to her ever-growing Ravelry queue.

She picks up her custom-dyed yarn from Daisy before they head back to Winterfell a few days later. Brienne is so excited to start knitting her new Lannister project. Too bad that she has much less knitting time when she has to keep her project as secret from Jaime. She steals time from her sleep, cancels movie nights with him and keeps a decoy project what she knits while he is nearby.

In three weeks the first mitten is off her needles and she pulls it to her hand. _Shit_. She immediately calls Goodwin.

“Uncle,” her voice almost breaks in the phone. “The damn thing is too big.”

“Did you get the gauge right?” her uncles voice is calm.

“16 stitches for inch, that should have been good, right?”

“It sounds right, sweetling. Are you sure that they are too big?”

“Well, they are slightly too big for me, and Jaime has smaller hands than I. Do you think I should try to shrink them in the wash? Or should I just unravel them? It took me weeks to knit just this one. I don't know why I didn't try it on while I knit it.”

“Come now, girl. Never unravel before you have had a glass of wine and a good nights sleep.”

That advise seems to be exceptionally good. Brienne stuffs the slightly too big mitten to the closet and goes to Jaime's to sulk and drink beer.

Next day, when she is in the museum basement in the storage room sorting through a bag that contains the parts of at least three different suits of armour she suddenly knows what to do with a slightly too big mitten.

**

Their holiday at Tarth was the best thing ever Jaime thinks but return to Winterfell is depressing as hell. It's not only the weather, but its something else as well. It takes him a while to recognise it, but on one day when he walks in their office and sees Brienne visibly react with “Oh shit” face, he realises that Brienne doesn't want to spend time with him any more.

She doesn't come to hang out to his place to binge watch tv series and ask him over to dinner. Instead she looks slightly tired, like she doesn't get enough sleep or eat well.

It's his own fault, he knows. He had to go and kiss her in her childhood home and now she actively avoids him. He has ruined their friendship, and it makes him so damn sad, and angry. Not angry at her, but at himself for being a desperate old cripple. Why would Brienne want to be with him? She is still young and she looks like Warrior incarnated, and there are plenty of young or and two-handed men and women in North who eye her greedily. Maybe Brienne is spending time with one of them, and that's what's keeping her up all night, Jaime thinks bitterly.

It gets so bad that Brienne even skips work on day. On the following day which is also Jaime's nameday she comes into office happier he has seen her for ages. When Jaime's colleagues demand Jaime to come over to nearby tavern to celebrate his nameday Jaime first refuses to go. He doesn't want to hang out with them, he wants to go home and sulk.

“Don't be grumpypants” chitters Sansa and Brienne looks genuinely upset, so Jaime is forced to go in the end. Brienne sits next to him in the tavern, both a torture and a blessing. There is cake and even a gift--out of print book that Jaime has looked but not found. He feels quite touched, he doesn't remember getting a nameday gift from his work colleagues ever before.

“I also have a gift to you,” Brienne says quietly and pulls out a package from her backpack. It's a small gift bag, with a bow on top. Brienne's face has gone all pink again and when he has taken the bag from her she puts her fingers at her cheeks like she does when she is aware of her blush.

“What's this? I didn't realise we're gonna make individual gifts?” grumbles Theon from across the table.

“It's just something I saw at Tarth and I wanted Jaime to have.”

Jaime undoes the bow that ties the gift bag and pulls out the soft red things from the bag. They are mittens, knitted in red and gold. There are Lannister lions on them and in the bottom there are initials. _JL * BT_ on the front and on the other side _2020_ to mark the year.

“You made these for me?” Something unravels inside Jaime. He looks up from the mittens and sees that Brienne watches him with worried eyes.

“Yes, well. I didn't design them, but I knitted them, yes. I saw the design in one of dad's notebook at Tarth and thought you'd like them.”

“Oh my gods, Brienne, these are gorgeous!” Sansa almost shouts from across the table. “Let me see them, Jaime!”

He doesn't want to let go of his mittens. The lions rampant have green eyes and there is a sword between two lions. All the tightness in his chest has eased and only a puddle of yarn has left.

“Brienne,” he is able to sigh.

“Do you like them?” she looks still worried. “It's ok if you don't, you don't have to wear them.”

It's only then when he realises that there are two mittens.

“You made two?” He thought that he couldn't feel more but he does.

“Well, yes. I know you don't need two, but you can wear the other one over your prosthetic. Or only wear one if you want to.”

“I love them.” He loves her, he wants to say, but pulls her to hug instead. “Thank you.”

“Is that what you have been doing all these weeks? Knitted these in secret?” She nods and lifts her hands to her cheeks again.

Jaime gives in and finally gives his mittens to Sansa to inspect and squeal over. The mittens are work of wonder apparently and Sansa starts to interview blushing Brienne.

“Brienne, the stitches are so small! What needles did you use?”

“1.25 mm” and that makes the knitters around the table to gawk.

“How many zeros is that?” asks one of the girls from North. “I never understand those sizes you use in Stormlands.”

“I think that's size four-zero” explains Sansa. “Brienne, how many stitches you had in this?”

“Oh, I'm not sure, maybe 150 in the round” mutters Brienne and looks embarrassed. The knitters look stunned. It must have taken her ages. Jaime just wants to get his mitten back, but he knows that other knitters admiring her work is something that Brienne needs but rarely gets.

“I've never knitted anything pretty before,” she admits to him.

“That's not true. Everything you given to me has been very lovely” he takes her hand to his own.

“Do they fit, Jaime?” Sansa gives the mittens back to Jaime. “Put them on, so I can see how they fit.”

He takes them back and with the help of his prosthetic hand, pulls on the mitten to his left hand. It fits perfectly. It's thick and warm and soft. Then he pulls on the other one over his prosthetic.

“Let me see,” fusses Brienne with his hands to check the fit. They do fit and she looks so happy, happier than he has ever seen her. “I had to add linings to them, to make them fit better and make them warmer as well. I'm really happy with how they came out.”

“Thank you,” he beams back to her and puts both his mittened hands to her cheeks. He almost kisses her lips again, but instead puts his forehead against hers for a small moment and then hugs her again.

He is still wearing his gift when they walk home from the bus stop later in the evening. He holds her hand in his. They are both wearing mittens in their hands and that's incredibly cute.

“I thought you were angry with me.” Jaime needs to confess.

“Angry? Why would I be angry with you?”

“Because I kissed you.” She stops and looks at him. The cold night surrounds them. The sky is clear and the stars and the moon look down at them. He shrugs a little. “You ran away after I kissed you.”

“Oh,” she looks at him. “I wasn't angry. Maybe little bit afraid. But not angry, not at all.”

They're all bundled up in their winter gear and standing outside under the stars. Brienne wears a parka with the hood up and she has wrapped a huge fluffy scarf around her neck and face to protect it from cold. Only her eyes and the tip of her nose is visible. His own mouth is hidden behind the cowl Sansa gave him many months ago. Frost has formed to the surface of the scarf near Brienne's mouth. Jaime pulls down his own cowl and pushes away her scarf from her face.

“Good.” Jaime finally manages to say and kisses her chapped lips. It's horribly cold and tomorrow the sun will not rise but Brienne's lips are soft and warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Helpful picture](https://tall-wolf-of-tarth.tumblr.com/post/190773347601/tryggve-gran-norwegian-aviator-explorer-and) what a polar explorer in a regional sweater might look like. I'm endlessly amused by Amundsen versus Scott saga and the British butthurt that followed it when Norwegians didn't play fair (they dressed properly and ate their dogs on return journey). Maybe I should write a fic about Jaime vs Brienne race to Land of Always Winter.
> 
> if you want to know why there is a half of tank at the middle of Evenfall Hall courtyard read my fic called Tarth Museum. It's not set in exact same AU, but Lady Brienne Evenstar exists on both.
> 
> Tarth braid is of course lateral braid/Estonian braid/Latvian braid. [This is how you knit it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PINw3HfBhc). 
> 
> Travelling stitches are basically 1x1 cables. You don't need cable needles for knitting them, just do the swap like in the above video. [Here](https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/old-runo-gloves) is super cool glove pattern that has both travelling stitches and two rows of braids.


	5. 5. The Long Night. Coldness level 1000/10 but they are cosy now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Long Night happens. And fluff!

## 5\. The Long Night. Coldness level 1000/10 but they are cosy now.

When Brienne wakes up, it feels really late. Not that she would have any idea how far the day is because there's only darkness outside her window. Today is the first day of the Long Night, an astronomical event that only comes with the Long Winter. The sun has not properly risen for months now, but today it will be the first day when it's so below the horizon that there is no daylight at all and there wont be any at least for a week. For northerners that apparently means a week-long party.

The whole Winterfell is gearing up to massive celebrations and everything that comes with it. Like with Long Winter, the preparations are well done. Busses are moving front and back between the downtown and suburbs to cart drunken revellers around and there are teams of sober people patrolling the streets to help anyone who is in the verge of passing out in the snow. Everything is well planned, but instead of poofy coats and vitamin-D supplements the government hands out condoms. And condoms are available everywhere. In the bathrooms of the bars, in the hallways of the apartment houses and in every house party there are bowls of condoms and no one bats an eye on it. Because The Long Night is when people pair off and party like there is no tomorrow. Or at least this is what Jayne Westerling explained yesterday to Brienne, half horrified and half exited.

Brienne turns away from the window and finds Jaime Lannister reclining in her bed. He is wearing her clothes, drinking her coffee and reading something that appears to be her knitting article.

“Hello my sweetling,” Jaime coos and gives a kiss to Brienne's cheek, carefully minding his coffee cup. “Tired, were you? It's almost noon.” Brienne looks up at the clock, and he is right. She doesn't remember when she has slept this late last time. Before she can think a response Jaime continues. “I think you were dead to the world as soon as you shut your eyes last night,” Brienne grumbles something that she hopes sounds like Good Morning and Jaime looks delightedly her struggling.

Jaime had invited himself over last night, and they had spent an hour on her sofa watching tv until Jaime had noticed Brienne nodding off and ushered her to bed. “You can stay if you want to,” she had told him before she fell asleep, and he had climbed under the covers after her. Too bad she doesn't remember any of the actual act of Jaime sleeping in her bed, she ruminates. Did they cuddle? Or maybe she snored and he had to evacuate to the couch and they haven't slept in the same bed at all. But there seems to be no way to ask about it.

“I've been burning the candle at both ends in last weeks.”

“Staying up and knitting in secret? Such a party animal you are, Tarth.” Jaime smiles and edges himself closer to her. “Good thing that you slept well then, we won't be getting much sleep tonight either.”

The first night of the Long Night is apparently the biggest party night. Brienne is going to this big bash that the museum is arranging to staff members, but she also has invitations to other parties. She has several texts on her phone, an email from a nice northern girl who works at the reference library, one printed invitation with “big party for big woman” scrawled across the paper and one oddly worded text from Hyle Hunt which she promptly deleted. She has never felt so popular.

“We are going together, right?” Jaime looks down at her across his coffee cup. He is wearing her fisherman's gansey, sweats and woolly socks and looks so cosy and warm.

“To the party? What do you mean, going together?”

“Well, as I'm your sweetling, we should go together.” That surprises Brienne. It's too early for this kind of jokes.

“Sweetling? Who said you are my sweetling?” she grumbles back at him.

“You said, in your article.” Jaime picks up the papers from his lap and reads. _“...Colourful handknitted mittens were often gifted by girls to their sweetlings as tokens of love or engagement presents.”_ Brienne groans. _“...the mittens were usually decorated with_ _initials_ _and the year of the wedding --_ See, we are practically betrothed now.”

“We are not betrothed, Jaime. We haven't even dated.” She tries to argue back, but she is still sleepy and Jaime has the benefit of having coffee inside him.

“We have been dating for months now. We've even met each other families.”

“You sneaked me into Casterly Rock behind your fathers back, I only saw him fifteen minutes. And we haven't dated.”

He laughs and puts away his coffee cup and her papers. He is way too adorable and Brienne wishes they could lie in her bed all day.

“I took you to the baths. That was a date.” That gets Brienne's hackles up again.

“We fell into the hot springs behind the museum!”

“We've been going together to the gym for almost a year now.”

“I go to the gym, you follow me around there.”

“Well, you are still my girl, and I want to take you to the party” Jaime announces merrily and pulls her up to his arms to a kiss.

They do end up going together. The familiar tavern nearby their museum is filled with people and noise. No one pays attention to them when Jaime grabs her hand when they are leaving the cloakroom.

“Brienne, don't agree to go to any afterparties without me, alright?” he suddenly pulls her nearer. “Let's have a chill-out together instead, right?”

He hadn't told her that he plans to have an afterparty. And she can't really refuse him, not when she has avoided him for weeks now.

“Of course I'll come to your chill-out, Jaime.” He smiles brightly and leads her to the back of the room to the long tavern table where Sansa, Rob, Podrick and others are already drinking Winter Ale. Brienne and Jaime squeeze to the bench and Jaime puts his arm around her. The party is already gearing up, the room is crowded and there is a band playing evergreen hits. On the other side of the room, the crowd is already singing along and dancing on the tables.

The ale is strong, and it's warm in the room. Jaime pulls off his sweater first, and gods, he is wearing a white t-shirt under it and Brienne has never seen his bare arms before. Suddenly she is hot as well, hot in everywhere and so she dunks her tankard of ale while it's still cool. Jaime seems to be a little bit conscious of his prosthetic hand, but no one pays attention to that luckily.

Everyone seems to be in a very good mood and there is constantly new ale in front of her. More people come over and they squeeze themselves tighter to the bench. In some point Brienne pulls off her gansey as well, and really doesn't care that she is only wearing a top with thin straps underneath it. She is not the only one who didn't bother with the party clothes, there are several people wearing thermal shirts or tank tops.

In some point, Jaime has put his arm around Brienne's shoulders and Sansa is giving Brienne a very pointed look which she decidedly ignores. Then the band starts to play The Queen Took Off Her Sandal, and suddenly everyone in the room starts to sing along. It's the northerners, Sansa, Ygritte and some others who stand up and usher everyone else to stand up and sing as well. On the second verse they're all standing on the benches, arms around each other yelling the words quite drunkenly and on the third verse, they are all dancing on top of the table. When the song finishes, everyone cheers and applauses and Podrick almost falls off from the table and somehow that is so funny that the whole crowd is in the stitches. When they all stumble down from the table all this ale Brienne has drunk is making itself known so she heads towards the loo.

“Ah, big woman, finally I found you!” she hears when she is passing the dance floor and finds Tormund from the gym heading towards her.

“My name is Brienne,” she says to the ginger wildling. Tormund always has made Brienne to feel uncomfortable, and it's not different this time either.

“Oh, but you are a big woman. I came here to steal you away to a better party.” Like she is some property to steal, the nerve of the man!

“Sorry, but I’m here with someone.” Brienne looks back towards their table and spots Jaime smiling at her.

“Ehh, your posh pretty boy.” Tor looks disappointed. “Well, when you get bored of him come and find me,” the man continues and stuffs a piece of paper to her hand. It's the flier to the party.

“Well, yes, thank you” Brienne stammers and makes her escape from Tormund.

Surprisingly Brienne gets accosted again in the ladies. Theon's sister catches her leaving the cubicle. Asha or Yara (Brienne is not entirely sure of the girls' name) spots Brienne and stalks decidedly toward her.

“Brienne! I was looking for you! Theon said you’d be here tonight.”

Brienne has no clue why Asha/Yara would be looking for her. They hardly know each other, besides meeting a few times at the bar.

“Have you got plans for chill out? Want to come to mine?” Asha/Yara asks when Brienne is washing her hands. Asha puts her hand on Brienne's shoulder and suddenly Brienne knows exactly what Asha means by chill out.

“Ah, hmm,” Brienne manages to stammer. “I’ve already got plans with Jaime.”

“With Jaime? Your tall blond boyfriend?” Asha laughs. “Oh what the hell, he is pretty enough, you can bring him too.”

“I’ll ask him” promises Brienne knowing very well that she will do no such thing. Asha/Yara leaves and Brienne is left alone in the loo. Alarmed, she suddenly realises that Jaime’s chill out might be similar to Ashas. She feels that all her blood rising to her face again. In a panic, she stuffs a handful of government-sponsored condoms to her pocket from the bowl before heading back to Jaime.

When Brienne is back to their table again in the safety of suitors she stomps down her embarrassment and manages to ask Jaime.

“Jaime, who else have you asked to your chill-out? Are there many people?”

“Ah, wench,” Jaime murmurs and fiddles with her bra strap. “Just you. I thought that we could watch tv or something. Or just chill.”

“I’d like that.” And she really would. She has missed him in the last weeks, and just thinking about him makes something inside her swell. He is so pretty and funny and Brienne wants to run her hands over his bare arms.

“You know, two persons have called you pretty tonight and you weren’t even there to witness it,” she smiles at him.

“What, who?” Jaime expands with joy. He is like a plant who grows on compliments instead of sunlight.

“Well, first it was Tormund” she starts telling him before he cuts her off. “Uhh, Tormund. Did you send him off?”

She ignores his petty comment and continues.

“And then Theon's sister Asha asked me to bring my pretty boyfriend to her chill out.”

“Your pretty boyfriend, that’s me” Jaime beams happily but immediately frowns. “Wait, Theon's sister asked you to chill out? What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I'll ask you.”

“Wench...” Jaime looks amused. “I'm not sure that I can share you. Ever.” Brienne snorts and puts her hands to her face. “I just didn't know what to tell her. I got so embarrassed.”

He pulls her to his arms and kisses her temple. “You stay nearby me now and I'll protect you from chill-outs.”

They do stay at the party for a while longer, and Brienne feels happy and content cuddling with Jaime. When a new band starts to play Jaime takes her to the edge of the dance floor and hugs her from behind while they sway to the music. It's some horrid wildling heavy metal band, but they play some lyrical songs and whole room sings along again.

When the party winds down they pick up their discarded sweaters, queue for their coats from the cloakroom and take the bus home. It's filled with drunken revellers but the mood is good and when a group of young girls start to sing a sea shanty the whole bus joins in. Jaime has quite a nice singing voice and it does weird things to Brienne's insides.

“I had such a good time,” Jaime tells her and leans his head to her shoulder.

When they step out of the bus the cold wind and snow hit her face. Everything around them is cold, and she can't stop thinking about how warm Jaime's body felt when he held her on the dance floor.

“Let's go home,” she tells him and leads the way through the snowstorm.

**

Jaime has not been so warm for a long time. The Long Night is the colder than Stranger's kiss, but finally, Jaime is warm. He understands now why the northerners spend it partying and fucking, because ever since Jaime has managed to weasel his way into Brienne's bed he has not been cold at all. It took them only a few days to shack up together but it's just so much warmer like that.

He bought over his blankets and covers to Brienne's apartment and every night they slip under the pile of their joint beddings and bask in the warmth of each others bodies. Brienne is sturdy and firm, and when Jaime presses himself against her naked back he feels content and happy. And Brienne seems to be happy as well, at least she makes this happy little noise when Jaime touches her. He is delighted to find that she is not only lean planes and hard muscle but there is secret softness on her. He slides his hand over her to find the swells of her breasts, soft insides of her thighs and her little belly below her abs.

In their week-long holiday they hardly get out of Brienne's bed at all and make good use of government-provided prophylactics. When they do manage to leave the bedroom they cuddle at the sofa and Jaime warms himself against Brienne's back which is hot like a furnace.

One surprisingly good thing about dating Brienne is that Jaime can now steal Brienne's clothes and hers are so much warmer than his. The warmest of them all is the gray shapeless sweater that looks super scratchy but is actually really really soft. On the second day when he has refused to give it back to her Brienne just sighs and digs into her yarn stash and brings out cream coloured yarn hanks and sets up the swift. It's Jaime who ends up winding the yarn for her, since it's something he actually pretty good at, as long as he is wearing his prosthetic. Brienne, who always gets the yarn hanks to a tangled mess takes the balls of yarn from him and sits to sofa to knit.

A week later she hands Jaime his own fisherman's _gansey_.

“Take good care of it, Jaime, it's the last wool I have from Tarth. No more knitting before the sheep can be sheared again.”

The gansey is warm and soft, and the cuffs are lined with red strips of fabric. It's Lannister red, and it has tiny Lannister sigils printed on it.

“Where did you get this fabric?” he looks up surprised.

“Your aunt Genna sent me some chocolate for Sevenmas, remember? It was wrapped to this.”

It's so like Brienne to take a piece of fabric that everyone else would have just discarded and used it so nicely.

On the last day of their holiday they are lazing on Brienne's bed again. They are both naked under the covers and Jaime is trying to map out all Brienne's freckles. It's too cold though and Brienne starts to squirm every time Jaime manages to uncover some of her bare skin. On the third try when she wiggles back under the blankets Jaime just sighs.

“When we get married, I'm taking you to the Summer Islands to our honeymoon. We can be naked there all the time, and the sun will bring out your freckles.” Brienne makes this funny noise and Jaime is not sure was it caused by what he said or what he did with his hand to her. He dives under the covers to kiss a particularly ticklish spot on her back to make her do the noise again.

“Jaime, we are not betrothed. And besides, I always get sunburned in the South.”

“Ever better, because that means I have a good excuse to rub some sunscreen on you whenever I want to touch you. And yes we _are_ betrothed.”

He comes back up for the air and Brienne takes his chin to his hand and makes him look at her.

“No, we are not engaged. You haven't asked me to marry you.” She tries to be firm but Jaime can see through her.

“Well, _you_ asked me to marry you, so I didn't have to ask.”

She lifts her brows up so he explains further.

“You asked me by giving me betrothal mittens. And I took them from you so that means I accepted.”

“That's not how it works, Jaime.” She seems to be amused though, and lets go of his chin with a kiss. “ You need to woo me first.”

“Oh, gladly” he laughs and dives under the covers again.

After some vigorous wooing when they are both too exhausted to argue any longer he lifts his head from her shoulder and asks again:

“So can I tell everyone now that we are betrothed?”

“Oh do shut up, you ridiculous man” she laughs, and it wasn't no this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I started to write this apparently exactly month ago. Unlike with my werewolf au this time I stood my ground and finished the first draft before I started to post. This has been so much fun to write. And it was a success! Next chapter is an epilogue and I'll post it either today or tomorrow. Happy Valentines day to all!
> 
> I do plan to finish my werewolf au next, promise!
> 
> The Polar Night party is something that allegedly happens in the far north settlements, like Svalbard. So I made Long Night party here something like Oktoberfest, but with snow and hookups.


	6. 6. Smells like spring. Coldness level 5/10 (Tarth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue. It's still winter.

## 6\. Smells like spring. Coldness level 5/10 (Tarth)

Jaime is standing in the little anteroom at Evenfall Hall and looking at wedding guests hurrying to sept across the courtyard. Most of the guests are from Tarth and North. He spots a few of his family members and friends from Kings Landing-- they are easiest to spot since they are the ones who are shivering in designer outfits. Even Addam who is now standing in front of Jaime, trying to fix his scarf is shivering with cold.

“Addam, I told you to wear something warm. It's still winter and it's cold here at Stormlands.”

“I'm wearing a sweater.”

It's a pitifully thin cashmere sweater. The dress code for the wedding was “something warm” but Jaime's side of the family and friends have opted to something that they might call “winter chic”. In practice, it seems to be normal wedding clothes with a designer scarf or a shawl. With icy wind blowing over the sea they look like butterflies in the snowstorm. Northerners are easy to recognise, they all wear furs and warm capes. And the islanders, Brienne's family and friends, wear tweed suits with good ganseys.

“What on earth are you wearing, Jaime?” asks one of them now and steps into the room. It's Goodwin, Brienne's favourite uncle. Jaime looks down at himself. He rather thinks he looks dashing in his new tailor-made tweed suit.

“Umm, a suit?”

“Not that, underneath that?”

“My gansey? Brienne told me I should wear it.”

“That's not a proper gansey, son. It's tourist gansey.” Uncle Goodwin looks stern.

“Oh.” That's going to be a problem. “Um, it's the only one I have. Or should I wear my fisherman's gansey? Brienne made that for me.” That one would be warmer anyway. Goodwin frowns.

“You can't wear that, son, that is everyday wear. You need a nice gansey to the wedding.”

Jaime panics, and Addam looks worried as well.

“Well, go on, take it off” instructs Goodwin.

But Jaime only has his thermal shirt underneath it. He can't go and get married in a thermal shirt.

“Addam, you have to give me your shirt.” They are both in full panic mode now. Addam takes off his suit jacket and his cashmere sweater. Brienne will be down in any minute and Jaime is not even properly dressed to his wedding.

“Stop fussing, Jaime. And you, stop undressing.”

Jaime and Addam both turn to look at the older man, who seems to be smirking.

“Don't worry, lad. Let me see if I can find you something.” Goodwin goes to the nearby cabinet and starts opening the drawers. Like there would be something Jaime could wear to his wedding.

“Where did I put it, ah, here it is.” And with these words, smirking Goodwin pulls out something from the drawer. It's a nice gansey, the kind of Brienne has. From soft cream wool, with tiny stitches. The cuffs are done in red and gold, and has little lions and Jaime's initials knitted on them.

“Here you go son, put this on.”

“This is for me?” Jaime asks.

“Of course it's for you. You are marrying the heir of Evenstar, you will need a nice gansey to the wedding. It's my wedding gift for you.”

Jaime can't really believe it. Brienne's uncle is the best knitter at the island, and he has knitted a gansey for him. He must have started it when Jaime was visiting Tarth last time, or even earlier.

“Thank you.” He hugs the old man.

“Ah, son, put it on so I can see if it fits.”

Jaime puts on the gansey, and of course it fits. And then he puts on his tweed jacket, and lets Goodwin to fuss with his red silk scarf that goes under the collar of his gansey. Addam, who has always been quick-witted puts on Jaime's old tourist gansey, and sighs happily.

“This is so warm. I'm not giving it back.”

“Keep it,” Jaime laughs and hugs his friend.

Then Brienne and Sansa come down.

Sansa, who seems to be the only person who can pull off winter chic while still being warm, is wearing an overly large lace shawl with glass beads that Podrick has given her.

But Jaime really doesn't see Sansa, because behind her comes his bride. Brienne is wearing her own gansey, with a large poofy silk skirt and on her head is Tarth bridal crown and on her hip, she is carrying Oathkeeper. Her Tarth maiden's cloak is trailing behind her. Brienne looks radiant and happy and Jaime really can't believe how lucky he is to have her as his bride.

“Are you sure you won't be cold like that?” he looks suspiciously at her silk skirt. Sansa's laughter tinkles behind her.

“Come on, Brienne, show him what you have under that.” Brienne laughs too, and lifts up her skirts, and underneath them, she has hot pink woollen pants with little lions on them.

“Something Sansa made for me.”

“Come on, kids. Time to go” ushers Goodwin them out of the room. Sansa gives Brienne her flowers and Addam picks up Lannister cloak from a nearby chair.

Jaime takes Brienne's hand and together they walk to the sept. It's cold outside, but you can smell the spring in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Helpful picture what a bridal crown would look like.](https://tall-wolf-of-tarth.tumblr.com/post/190827478381/s%C3%A1mi-bride-wearing-bridal-crown)  
> Bridal crowns were used to all over Europe and I wanted to add some nice wedding details that are not the Anglo-American kind you see usually. I also made J&B to walk to the altar together, like we do in Scandinavia, because that's feminist as fuck instead of treating women as property that the father “gives” to a husband. Walking together as two equals is much more empowering.
> 
> Originally I didn't plan to end this with a wedding, but then Jaime found out about engagement mittens and insisted that this is how it ends. Thanks for all who has read, commented, hit kudos etc. I've really had fun with this and I've really happy how many have commented that they want to knit something now. So go and knit something! It's really good for you, even if you do a simple scarf. Come and hit me with asks in Tumblr if you want to know headcanons or ask about knitting. I still might post the chart for Lannister lions, if I have time to tidy it up. 


	7. Fanart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link to fanart.

Talented artist Gemikanxiii made [this wonderful drawing](https://gemikanxiii.tumblr.com/post/620195703069835264/kofisformamamay-batch-09) of Brienne gifting mittens to Jaime and I’m absolutely floored how gentle their Jaime is. Please follow her blog and check out her other art!

And if anyone wants to hear me mumbling I’ve posted audio snippet to my blog, me reading a [small bit from Chapter two](https://tall-wolf-of-tarth.tumblr.com/post/621624785956421632/as-always-im-day-late-and-dollar-short-but-here). 

**Author's Note:**

> My darling knitting au. Please leave a comment or kudos, or drop by to leave your own GOT/ASOIAF knitting headcanons.


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